Let it Snow!
by Graveygraves
Summary: A sudden last minute case leads to an unexpected Christmas for all of the team, but especially Reid and Morgan. Written for MelloJason in the CCOAC Gift Exchange. Beta'd. Merry Christmas!
1. Best laid plans

**Let it Snow, Let it Snow, Let it Snow!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the ideas.**

**This is my Christmas Gift for MelloJason, as part of the gift exchange on Chit Chat on Author's Corner. The prompts I was given were: Wizards in Winter (Trans Siberian Orchestra), snow, blizzard, snowed in for Christmas. My pairing is Reid and Morgan.**

**Thanks goes to those who tried to help me find a real location for this story, however nothing quite fitted the bill, so the location is as far as I can establish imaginary.**

. . .

Derek looked down at the last couple of manila files resting on his unusually immaculate desk. His hand hovered as he actually considered whether there was any point taking them home with him. After all _'__tis__ the __season __to __be __merry_ he thought to himself, and the last thing he associated with the folders were merriment. With a slight sigh he slid them into a drawer – there was nothing that couldn't wait to the New Year. After all the whole team was on leave, so Hotch wouldn't miss the odd report here or there, _would __he?_

Lifting his bag and flicking off his desk lamp, Derek headed for the door, a quick round of goodbyes and a festive kiss or two and he was heading home for Christmas.

This year the team was late 'breaking up' for Christmas, as Hotch had convinced them all not to start their leave until Saturday, Christmas Eve. Derek was getting the late Friday night flight to Chicago, so he could maximise the Christmas weekend with his family. There was something so necessary about Christmas with his mom and sisters. Okay, he was the wrong side of forty to be a 'Mommy's Boy'. If he could find the woman to challenge his mom's cooking then he would be a happy man, but right now being spoilt rotten by the three most important women in his life was as good as it got.

Stepping into the bullpen, Derek headed toward some of the team who seemed to be gathered by Reid's desk.

Pulling a sprig of mistletoe from his bag, he saddled up behind Prentiss. "Anyone for a Christmas kiss before I'm out of here until the New Year?"

Emily wrinkled her nose. "You have got to be kidding?"

"Come on Princess, you know this is a once in a lifetime offer."

Reid looked up at his older friend. "Uh, no, you offer the same invite every year."

"Reid, you're not helping my mojo, man."

"What you think we're stupid enough not to remember the same cheesy offer each year ourselves?" Emily asked.

"Trust me, if you accepted the offer I would guarantee you would remember it without the help of an eidetic memory."

Emily and JJ rolled their eyes at each other.

"Hey, your luck may have changed, Stud," JJ added, nodding her head in the direction of an approaching flurry of festive colour, "Sure _Mama_ has a kiss for her _Hot Stuff._"

As Penelope bustled in their direction, the team became aware of the solemn look on her usually cheerful face.

"You look like you are in need of some Christmas Cheer," Derek smiled.

"Hold you horses, my Chocolate Muffin; I am most definitely not the Christmas Fairy this year. Right now I am totally channelling an unwanted Scrooge vibe."

In sequence their faces dropped as they realised the meaning of her words.

"Whoa Girl, no, no this is not happening. I have a flight booked in a matter of hours and . . . it's the holidays," Derek moaned.

"I don't think serial killers pay attention to usual conventions such as holidays."

"Gee, thank you, Genius," Derek said as he trudged behind the others to the conference room.

. . .

Sitting around the large table the whole team looked equally mortified by the turn of events. Hotch hated having to cancel their leave but he had no choice, they were the only team still in the building. The case that had just landed on his desk could not be ignored for another hour let alone a week. Christmas or not, it was wheels up in thirty.

Turning from them to face the screen, he began the briefest of briefings. On the screen were the images of the remains of three cabins. The team focused their attention on burnt out pictures. Maybe they would get lucky and find the UnSub and return before Christmas Day. Then again maybe Hell would freeze over in the next forty-eight hours.

"As you can see we have an arson based cased to investigate," Hotch interrupted their thoughts. "Each of the locations are holiday homes used by families from the nearby town of Sweeney. All are log built constructions; even with modern safety features these building are highly flammable. The cabins are situated within a dense evergreen forest on the outskirts of Lake Logan. Each individual clearing is linked to the next by a series of driveways and footpaths. Though there is no permanent residence, there is a strong community feel, especially at holiday periods."

"From the fact that you have stopped all of us from leaving the building, I assume that the cabins weren't vacant at the time."

Hotch glanced at Rossi, not needing to answer the question directly.

"Each cabin was occupied by the family that owned the building. Most of the cabins in the area are in occupancy at the moment, though they are spread over a considerable distance. We have asked the local police to try and encourage a return to home for the holiday season, so far it has been a mixed response. It seems there is quite a local tradition, log fire, pine cones, you get the idyllic picture."

"Just need the snow," Prentiss muttered.

"Actually it is unlikely, though not unheard of. The area does have micro-climate of its own . . ." Reid let his voice trail of as he realised that no-one was currently interested in what he had to say.

"I have loaded up all the information you need, plus hard copies for those who so desire," Pen said flatly. "May God send His angels with you as I pray for a speedy return."

"Amen Mama," Morgan retorted, as the team made their way to the plane.

. . .

Christmas is not a time or a season but a state of mind. To cherish peace and good will, to be plenteous in mercy, is to have the real spirit of Christmas.

**Calvin Coolidge**


	2. Arrival

**Let it Snow, Let it Snow, Let it Snow!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the ideas.**

**This is my Christmas Gift for MelloJason, as part of the gift exchange on Chit Chat on Author's Corner. The prompts I was given were: Wizards in Winter (Trans Siberian Orchestra), snow, blizzard, snowed in for Christmas. My pairing is Reid and Morgan.**

**Sorry suddenly realised i forgot to post last night - will do two updates today to make up for my mistake.  
><strong>

. . .

Settled on the jet, everyone was busy studying the information given to them, in preparation for Hotch gathering them together to start the job of profiling the crime. The quiet cough told them that time had come.

Rossi and Prentiss sat facing Morgan and Reid at the table, while Hotch was perched on the end of the bench seat that JJ was sat on.

"Well," Hotch said, struggling to hide the disappointment in his voice.

"Arsonist can be classified in to various categories based on their motive. The 'Vandalism-motivated' arsonist is most frequently a child or adolescent, who seems unlikely in this case," Reid started his monologue, fingers twitching as he spoke eagerly, "Next are 'Excitement-motivated' arsonists, these include thrill and attention seekers also those who want hero recognition, this should not be ruled out from the information we have so far. Another possibility is the 'Revenge-motivated' arsonist, where the fire is used for personal retaliation. A 'Crime-concealment' arsonist seems unlikely as does an 'Extremist'. We need to look into any links that could make this a 'Profit-motivated' arsonist, though again unlikely as the prime motive in most cases is insurance, and these fires have killed complete families, leaving no-one to profit from the action."

Morgan smiled at Reid's ramble, they all knew the categories of arsonist, yet there was always something soothing about the younger profiler's reel that helped him focus his mind.

"Three cabins, in three nights," Rossi mused, "So we can classify him, I use him as most arsonists are male, as a spree arsonist, as there are no hiatus between his crimes."

Without thinking Dave looked at his watch, calculating the time at their destination. Night would be drawing in; the chances were that shortly after landing a fourth case would be brought to their attention.

"All of the families are from the same district of Sweeney," Prentiss commented, "Their kids went to the same schools, and some were likely to be in the same classes looking at their ages. The families would have known each other, their lives crossed paths in so many ways. We definitely have plenty of links to work with, maybe too many."

"I suggest we all try and getting some sleep before landing," Hotch suggested, "I assume my thoughts on getting this over with as quickly as possible reflects everyone else. We'll work though the night on arrival."

. . .

The festive decorations were already starting to bug Morgan as he wandered into the police station with the team. It was like they were actively rubbing salt into his wounds. Telling his Mom that he wasn't going to make the flight tonight and he wasn't sure he would make Christmas at all, was one of the hardest things he done in a long time. Hearing that disappointment in her voice had hurt.

Dragging his feet, as the team made their way into their latest 'home', Morgan flopped into a seat and reached for a laptop. Maybe his personal Angel could lift his spirits.

"Hi," Garcia greeted, more than a little lacklustre to her usually witty refrains.

"Hey you got anything new for us that may just mean we can step right back onto that plane?"

"Oh Baby Boy I only wish I had," sympathy pasted on her face

Morgan sighed, as he turned the screen towards Hotch who was indicating he wished to speak to the tech goddess.

Morgan stood, restless, and made his way to where Reid was busy colouring in an area map.

"What you got Pretty Boy?"

"Well, as Emily pointed out earlier there are a number of links that connect the families. On the map I have indicated the family homes in green, in addition to that I have plotted other buildings of significant importance to all of the families, for example the High School," Reid pointed at a blue blob, before moving to various other coloured spots "Church, shopping mall, Sports clubs etc."

Derek nodded, as he clapped a large hand on his colleague's shoulder. At least this looked like something was moving in a definite direction, but as Prentiss had pointed out there were a lot of potential links. That meant a lot of potential names for the UnSub.

"I think it is best . . ." Hotch started as the door swung open.

"Sorry to interrupt," spoke a nervous looking Deputy, "But we have just received news of a fire in the vicinity of the others. We had already positioned the fire service up there just in case, so hopefully they may be in time on this occasion."

All of the team were up and moving before he finished speaking, making their way to the SUVs.

. . .

Pulling up alongside the lake, the team disembarked; the orange glow in the distance evidence that the fire may have been brought under control, but was not fully extinguished.

"They would be lucky to get a fire truck up there," Rossi muttered under his breath.

Prentiss wrapped her arms around her body, surprised at just how cold the night was. Maybe they should have let Reid give them the lecture on the local micro-climate.

"Prentiss, Rossi can you two start to interview the onlookers," Hotch started dishing out the instructions, "someone must have seen something. Start at the Lodge over there, it seems to be a focal point. Morgan, Reid can you start to make your way up to the latest crime scene. I already have Garcia checking the work schedules for the last few nights, see if anyone stands out up there. Make sure you take one of the Rangers with you, it looks like the SUV will only get you so far, after that you're on foot. JJ you're with me, we will focus on the emergency service crews."

Everyone nodded, except Reid, who starred open mouthed at the inky forest in front of him. Swallowing nervously he followed Morgan towards the black company vehicle.

Getting into the passenger side, he tried hard not to let his nerves show at the prospect of entering the dark wooded area. Morgan headed them off to find a Ranger that could take them up to the remains.

"You okay, Kid?" Morgan asked as he glanced at his partner.

"Um, yeah, fine."

'Fine' the standard answer Reid gave when everything was anything but fine.

. . .


	3. Christmas Eve

**Let it Snow, Let it Snow, Let it Snow!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the ideas.**

**This is my Christmas Gift for MelloJason, as part of the gift exchange on Chit Chat on Author's Corner. The prompts I was given were: Wizards in Winter (Trans Siberian Orchestra), snow, blizzard, snowed in for Christmas. My pairing is Reid and Morgan.**

**As promised a second update for today.  
><strong>

. . .

The night had been nothing but frustrating. Morgan and Reid had been stopped from making their way towards the scene, having been told to come back in the morning. Rossi and Prentiss fared slightly better; though had plenty of local tales to wade through before they could establish any facts. Few of the emergency crews were willing to acknowledge Hotch and JJ's present, making it obviously that they distrusted the interference of the FBI.

Gathered once more in the police station, everyone hugging a mug of coffee, even Prentiss had relented on her caffeine free existence. They had fed back the meagre information and now they all looked weary on the cold Christmas Eve morning. No-one spoke, as they inhaled the steam from the inky liquid in front of them, silently milk and sugar was passed round and added as necessary.

The atmosphere spoke for them.

Clearing his throat, Hotch lifted his head, glancing round the room. The thought of missing Christmas with Jack was adding an unbearable edge to his already foul mood.

"We need to focus on the few leads we have today. I don't need to remind any of you that today is Christmas Eve."

"But you will anyway," muttered Derek, earning him a glare from his ill tempered boss.

"Prentiss and JJ, can you two make arrangements with the Principle and head over to the school, look into the background of the children from each family. Did they all get on? That sort of thing. Fire-starting is often an early warning sign for worse to come; there may be something in past records that could head us in the right direction. I will get Garcia to continue her search of the juvenile records. Rossi, you and I will head to the Recreation Centre; all of these families have strong ties to various sports. Reid and Morgan you can head back out to the cabins, especially the Larson's Cabin from last night. Any questions?"

The lack of response was interpreted as a no.

. . .

Taking the winding roads back up towards the forest, Reid stared out of the SUV's dark windows. The heavy clouds overhead worried him, even if they received a Christmas miracle and solved the case today; the likelihood of them being snowed in for Christmas seemed to increase by the hour.

"Right so I'm pissed coz right now I should be at home being pampered by my Mom, what's your excuse?" Derek asked the obviously thoughtful Reid.

"Just because my Mom isn't likely to produce some extravagant meal, doesn't mean my Christmas would be any less important than yours," he bit back.

"Whoa, I didn't mean any offense, sorry."

The rest of the journey passed in silence, until they were joined by a local Ranger, McConkey, at the entrance to the site. Derek kicking himself for making such an insensitive comment, knowing that tiredness was obviously clouding his judgement.

"I'll take you up to the Larson's Cabin, but I won't be able to stay with you," the female Ranger explained, "Some of the families have decided to make the move back to town. I think the combination of the killer and the possibility of the worst weather in more years then I can remember, have somewhat dampened people's spirits. I'm helping out closing cabins down. Guess if no-one is out here he'll stop right?"

"You lived here all your life?" Morgan asked casually, deliberately avoiding her question.

"Sweeney born and bred - finished High School and came out here. I always loved my time here with my family, so getting paid to spend my days in the woods, somehow seemed a bonus."

"So what's your take on all this? Any bad feelings we should know about?"

The Ranger shrugged her dark ponytail swishing as she shook her head gently.

"You know what life's like, in communities that work and play together there is always some back scratching and back stabbing going on. Do I think I know anyone capable of doing this? No, God I hope not. It's common knowledge around here that we all get together at Christmas in the woods. The Lodge puts on events, we go round each others, walks, whatever. It's a whole family thing; even my friends that went away to university or collage are back. If whoever is doing this knows us, then they know that each cabin holds the whole family at this time of year."

"From the information gathered so far we are finding it difficult to establish a motive for the fires," Reid begun to explain, "We need to know if the deaths are intentional, so whether the fire is a weapon or not? Has there ever been a problem with fire setting in the forest?"

"The usual stuff, as far as I know," McConkey answered, "BBQs and campfires that have got out of control in the summer months, but nothing deliberate that I can think of, especially not at this time of year, time of peace and goodwill and all."

Derek nodded.

Getting out at the bottom of the drive to the Larson's cabin, Derek grabbed a scarf as the freezing air bit into him. Looking up at the darkened sky the snow filled clouds threatened to burst at any moment.

As if reading his thoughts, McConkey commented:

"Looks like it will be a bad one when it comes; we either get nothing or feet of the stuff. Haven't had a white Christmas since I was about ten."

"Great," Morgan muttered as they begun to trudge up to the remains. It wasn't that he didn't like snow, just the thought of it hindering any chance they had of heading home was enough to add to his already fraying temper.

By the time they had reached the burnt remnants of the log cabin, the first flurries had started. Each flake settled on the cold ground, yet the still warm ashes, kept the fresh crime scene clear. McConkey left the two agents to do whatever it was they were supposed to do.

Looking back over her shoulder she watched as the tall skinny one begun leaning into the charred wood, while the burly one stood, planted to the spot as solid as any of the surrounding trees.

"For what its worth I'd get back down and head home as soon as possible," she called as she left.


	4. Signiture

**Let it Snow, Let it Snow, Let it Snow!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the ideas.**

**This is my Christmas Gift for MelloJason, as part of the gift exchange on Chit Chat on Author's Corner. The prompts I was given were: Wizards in Winter (Trans Siberian Orchestra), snow, blizzard, snowed in for Christmas. My pairing is Reid and Morgan.**

**End of this chapter makes us half way through the story. I will not promise the next chapter tomorrow but definately by Boxing Day. Sorry to keep you waiting.  
><strong>

. . .

At once Morgan's attention was caught by Reid's sudden inaction. The younger agent appeared frozen to the spot, which was possible with the weather.

"What you got kid?" he called from the other side of the still damp dark mass that was once a log cabin.

"It looks like something in a footprint," Reid answered, his head popping up and circling around; as if he was trying to process the whole scene as he scanned it, before he reached into his pocket for something then he bobbed back down again.

"It probably belongs to one of the fire crew from last night," Morgan refused to get excited by the 'discovery'.

"I'd like to take a closer look at the other cabins, having read the file before we left I think there was a hap-hazard element to the crime scene analysis. I have already found a number of inaccuracies in the one for the Larson's; they may have missed something at the other scenes too."

"We're BAU, not CSI and right now I'm COLD."

Reid looked directly at Morgan after his last comment, deciding it was best ignored.

"The Manson cabin is only a short way through the wood to the left; it's not the next one along this path but the one after. I would like to look at one more cabin before we leave."

Morgan shrugged, knowing he could do little to deter the genius once he had a set idea; "Whatever, let's go."

Trudging off together, Morgan finally accepted the inevitable fact, he was not going home this Christmas – none of them were.

. . .

By the time they reached the snow covered remains of the second cabin, Morgan was ready to split and call it a day, the walk had taken longer then he had estimated. Though it was only mid afternoon, the darkness of being further into the wood and the persistently threatening snowstorm intensified the steel grey sky.

"Thought you didn't like the dark," Morgan moaned.

"I don't," Reid answered, already crouching down near the edge, gently clearing the snow.

"Well I suggest a maximum of ten minutes then we head back, or you and I will be left alone in the deep dark woods."

Reid nodded his answer, but Morgan could already tell he was engrossed in something. Intrigued Morgan went over to join him.

"So what gives?

At the Larson's cabin, in the footprint that I noticed, I found this," Reid held out a dirty medal, wrapped in a blue latex glove.

Morgan pulled a matching glove from his own pocket, as he reached forward to the spot on the ground where Reid had been clearing the snow. Picking up the identical item, Morgan examined it closer.

"Athletics? Yours the same?"

Reid nodded.

"So we have a signature," Morgan commented, looking more confused than ever, "I'll call Hotch, he and Rossi were looking into the sports centre, this might make sense to them."

Pulling his cell out, Morgan looked up at the sky. The snow had started to fall once more, the large fat flakes landing silently around them.

Morgan sighed deeply, "No signal, we'll have to head back down and call them from the SUV."

The two agents rapidly headed back the way they came.

. . .

Morgan was physically struggling as they reached the first clearing on the way towards the Larson's cabin. Looking towards Reid he wondered how his colleague was fairing. The snow in the clearing was much deeper than that in the wood, through the paths were starting to gather a decent amount of the white stuff. The man-made trails around the complex were designed for maximum light, so the trees offered physical shelter, but not complete protection from the weather.

"Reid, I think we need to consider our options here."

Turning to face the older profiler, Reid looked through the small gap between the top of his purple wool scarf and the bottom of his jacket hood. Coming from Las Vegas, Reid had never been one to 'do cold'. He had barely got use to Quantico's winters over the last eight years.

"What do you suggest?" Reid asked hugging himself a little tighter as the freezing wind rushed through him in the clearing.

Morgan took one look at the empty log cabin they were stood by; raising an eyebrow he looked back at Reid.

"I figure this is preferable to a night in the SUV, even if we get back down the trail, we are going nowhere in this blizzard."

"A blizzard is a violent snowstorm with winds blowing at a minimum speed of 35 mph and visibility of less than one-quarter mile. I'm not sure this fully qualifies yet, though it is hard to accurately judge the wind speed in such a sheltered location," Reid commented as he looked up at the cloud formation above.

Morgan stared opened mouth at him.

"That wasn't an appropriate answer was it?" Reid questions when he saw the look on Morgan's face.

"Just a simple 'I agree' or 'let's continue' would have done."

"I agree."

"Good," Morgan said, making his way up to the cabin door, trying to see if it would open willingly.

It didn't.

Reid stood back, his hands now deep in his jacket's pockets, watching as Morgan smashed his foot into the area of the door lock. Easily the door submitted and Morgan made his way in.

Reid slouched forward to follow him.

. . .

Hotch looked impatiently at his watch as they tried to make their way back towards the station. Prentiss and JJ had reported in and agreed with Hotch that they should head straight back to the hotel, as it was closer to the school then the police station.

The road ahead was deadly, "Anything?"

Rossi looked up from his phone, shaking his head.

"No answer."

"Maybe they are already back at the station; we'll head there and find out what is happening in town with this weather."

Rossi looked over at his friend and colleague.

"You been able to ring Jack yet?"

Hotch paused for a moment before answering, "No."

"Ah," was all he managed in way of a reply, before they both focused back on the black tracks worn into the wet slush in front of them.


	5. Settling in

**Let it Snow, Let it Snow, Let it Snow!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the ideas.**

**This is my Christmas Gift for MelloJason, as part of the gift exchange on Chit Chat on Author's Corner. The prompts I was given were: Wizards in Winter (Trans Siberian Orchestra), snow, blizzard, snowed in for Christmas. My pairing is Reid and Morgan.**

**Sorry that it wasn't complete for Christmas day - I started posting too late. Will post daily until finished. Thank you for all the support and encouragement as I was really unsure of this story as it's not a full case or a friendship fluff, it a bit blurred. So it is really encouraging to here what you have to say.  
><strong>

. . .

The cabin gave shelter from the ever increasing snowstorm outside, yet true warmth was still a luxury. Morgan busied himself, trying to establish what the home had to offer them, while Spencer stood watching the snow pile up outside.

Happy that the door he had bust was finally secure Morgan begun to make up the fire in the centre of the cabin lounge. There seemed something slightly ironic about the action.

"Hey Pretty Boy, if you would like to be useful maybe you could see if coffee is a possibility."

Standing when he got no answer, Morgan made his way over to Reid.

"You ok?" he asked as he approached the younger agent.

Reid nodded, his long arms wrapped snugly around his thin body.

"Do you think he'll strike tonight, Christmas Eve?" Reid asked tearing his eyes away from the window and facing Morgan for the first time.

Morgan reached out a heavy hand, and placed it on Reid's shoulder, "Whether he planned to or not, I think it we can fairly safely say no-one is coming out here tonight, Hell, even Santa will struggle with this much snow."

Reid's eyes widened.

"What? Morgan asked.

"You believe in Santa?" Reid asked innocently.

"Yeah along with the Tooth Fairy, now go make me some coffee or you will have to worry about surviving the night with me and caffeine withdrawal."

Reid looked stunned by his colleague's joke, before movingly rapidly towards the kitchen area.

Morgan shook his head and smiled as he made his way back to the large stone fireplace. He still couldn't help but feel there was something very wrong about a roaring fire in a log cabin, let alone when the reason they were stuck out in said log cabin for Christmas, was because of a serial arsonist.

Lighting the match and watching the fire catch, Morgan was in a trance, his mind trying to compute the link between that action the killer they were hunting.

Reid came back into the lounge, two steaming mugs in hand. He hovered by the couch as he waited for Morgan to finish his moment of contemplation.

Standing and stretching Morgan jumped slightly as he turned and realised Reid was back in the room. Noticing the mug held towards him, Morgan took it willingly. Wrapping his fingers around it, Morgan savoured the heat.

"That's better," he moaned, before sitting down on the couch in front of the fire.

Reid tentatively joined him.

"What do we do now?" Reid asked.

"Whether the storm, I guess. Looking around briefly when I got in, it looks like the occupants of the cabin left in a rush; there is a lot of stuff left behind, more than we need to survive the night."

"It feels wrong," Reid muttered.

Morgan looked at the young genius, and smirked, he should have guessed that the innocent conscious would struggle with what they were doing.

"Hey, we are hurting no-one. Besides we can make up for what we use once we get down from here if it makes you feel any better."

Reid nodded.

They both stared silently at the fire, the amber flames licking the wood as the radiating heat started to warm the room. Morgan took the lulled moment as another opportunity to try his phone, one quick glance at the screen made it obvious that all calls were out of the question. He wondered what Hotch would do with them out of contact. The snow may not be as bad in the town, he hoped that the rest of the team were all safe, whatever the conditions.

. . .

Inside the police station Hotch paced the small room, while Rossi watched.

"You know that they will have found somewhere to hole up for the night. The snow has knocked out all communications; there is nothing you can do," Rossi explain flatly.

Hotch stopped long enough to glare at his companion. As if Christmas without his son was bad enough, then losing two of his team in the worst blizzard the town had seen for over a decade. He could just imagine what Strauss would have to say about this should she find out the current situation.

Propping his head up on one hand Rossi studied his anxious friend. He wished there was something he could do to help, instead he made do with being there for him, after all, where else could he be on the night before Christmas?

. . .

Morgan returned to the lounge two glasses in one hand and a bottle of scotch in the other.

Hearing the slight chink of the glasses, Reid spun his head to look for the source of the noise.

Plonking himself on the couch, Morgan poured two large slugs of the liquor. Passing one to Reid, he clinked the glass in a mock toast.

"To the crumbiest Christmas ever."

"Gee, thanks," Reid mumbled, "Besides I don't drink scotch."

"Sorry kid the bar is a little empty, but I will be sure to pass on you comment," Morgan took a swig from the glass.

Reid swirled the contents, watching the ripples swell around the sides. Submitting he tested the drink, squinting slightly as the burn hit his throat.

"You know," Morgan begun, letting his head rest back as he stared at the ceiling, "Right now my Mom would be insisting we wrap up warm for the walk to church for midnight mass. Me and my sister would be moaning, teasing my Mom, but actually I kinda like it. The service is so, I don't know, safe and secure."

Reid sat still, unsure what was an appropriate response in the circumstances; instead he took another sip of whiskey.


	6. Opening up

**Let it Snow, Let it Snow, Let it Snow!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the ideas.**

**This is my Christmas Gift for MelloJason, as part of the gift exchange on Chit Chat on Author's Corner. The prompts I was given were: Wizards in Winter (Trans Siberian Orchestra), snow, blizzard, snowed in for Christmas. My pairing is Spencer and Derek.**

**This chapter brings in the last of the prompts. All four done!  
><strong>

. . .

Derek hated the sense of tension that was building between them. Their were few people Derek trusted in this world, outside of his family, and Spencer was one of those few. He viewed him as his kid brother; totally annoying at times, open to be teased at every opportunity, but God help anyone else that treated Spence in that way. Derek's protection of Spencer was all incompassing and right now he knew something was bothering his friend. He settled back and watched as Spencer stared deep into the fire, his thoughts blatantly far away from the log structure they currently occupied. Derek knew he was guilty of teasing the younger agent, and maybe it was time he stopped, but Spencer had grown up to give as good as he got. He hadn't lost his innocence but he wasn't the green rookie Derek had taken under his wing just over seven years ago. Spencer had changed, especially in the last twelve months, but under the surface his was still as vulnerable as ever.

"Were you going home for Christmas?" Derek asked quietly.

Spencer let out a little huff, before nodding his head; "If you mean being in my home town, yeah, but as for home I haven't been back there since . . ."

Derek took note of the way his voice trailed off. All the years they had know each other they had talked about a lot of things, but Derek was suddenly starkly aware that they had never really spoken about the things that matter most to them – their families.

Sure they could discuss cases and even the impact certain people had on them. Spencer had listened about Ellie long after Emily had got fed up. He had finally let Derek in on the headaches and even allowed him to accompany him to several of the appointments. But everything that they had built was based on shared experiences, it had no spoken foundation in their past.

Occasionally they had exchanged snippets of information, Derek would never forget the revelation Spencer had made about what had happened on the football field when he was twelve, but that was all it ever was, brief pieces of information that always seemed to have some pertinence to the case they were involved in. Something that gave the other enough information to have a clue of where the other was coming from, however neither ever pushed to delve further into the past.

"Mom wouldn't move out of our home, no matter what. I offered to help her out with a new house, but she wouldn't hear of it," Derek blurted out, hoping that opening up about his own family may lead Spencer to do the same, "She said that it had been our family home, and where else were we to return to when we needed it but our family home. She keeps my room just as it was when I was a kid, at first it use to annoy me, but as I've grown older I have found comfort in all the crap she has stored in their."

Spencer's eyes narrowed as he turned to face Derek.

Derek leaned forward topping up the glasses.

"I thought she was just being stubborn," Derek continued, "until now. Now I realise how much I miss not being able to go home."

"It is just bricks and mortar," Spencer said matter of fact.

"You really believe that?" Derek eyebrows rose as he observed his reactions.

Spencer shrugged, trying to hide the emotion from his actions, aware the expert profiler was watching him.

"I don't know about you but our house if full of memories. Okay plenty of them are harsh and some I definitely don't want to be reminded of, but the flipside is that are loads of things that make me smile. The football trophies that Mom insists on cleaning and displaying, yeah they remind me of _him,_ but they also remind me of my Mom's pride each time I recieved one. That is what changes the house into a home."

Spencer looked at Derek, he was acutely aware that he had never heard Derek speak so openly, not about the past. He tried to understand what had brought on this sudden conversation, was Derek really missing being at home that much?

"The house Mom and I lived in, it wasn't important. Mom was what was important. I can have the same thoughts and feelings with her wherever we are."

Derek thought about what he said for a moment. It was such a contrast to his feelings about the past, his family was one big package, the people and the places. Spencer had had to give that all up when he turned eighteen and made the decision to get the help for his Mom that she needed. Derek shook his head, he couldn't imagine what making a decision like that did to a person.

"Do you get to spent Christmas in with your Mom, or do you have to check into a hotel?"

"I always check into a hotel nearby, for when things get too much for Mom," Spencer's gaze returned to the fire. "Sometimes it's best to walk away and come back later."

Derek couldn't begin to imagine what the turbulence of life with a Schizophrenic must be like. Derek's mom was his stability - she was always there - even when he couldn't tell her what was bothering him. He knew she was there and that had been enough to give him the strength he had needed. Spencer hadn't had that, he had been the strength. Complete role reversal. Derek's family supported him, Spencer had supported his family from such a young age.

Derek could draw up quick similarities between their lives. The lack of a father figure for many years, falling fate to their own vulnerabilities, but honestly their lives had been worlds apart.

Derek reached out to place a hand protectively on Spencer's shoulder, "Did you get chance to ring and say you wouldn't be coming?"

Spencer shook his head.

Squeezing the slight shoulder lightly Derek paused, hoping his actions reassured his friends more than his words did.

"I'm sure she'll understand, and Hotch will make sure we get to make up the time in the New Year."

"Yeah, but that won't be Christmas, it will just be another visit," Spencer countered, shaking the hand from his shoulder.

Derek sighed deeply; he knew what Spencer was saying. Okay his mom would pull out the stops, decorations and all, recreating Christmas for him. Spencer wouldn't get that; it would just be another day.

Derek rose, leaving the genius with his thoughts.

As he wandered around the cabin an idea stuck him, Derek gathered some things together from various cupboards and rooms. Returning to the lounge Derek knelt down by the fire.

Spencer looked at him quizzically.

Derek smiled as he realised he had Spencer's attention.

"Okay Kid, the way I see it is we have to make the best of this Christmas. I admit I hadn't planned on spending it with you, but it could be worse; I could be stuck out here with Hotch. So here's the plan: we are fast approaching midnight; we both have what's left of the night to make a present to open tomorrow morning!"

"Are you serious?" Spencer squeaked.

Derek nodded.

"Look, someone went to a hell of an effort to dress up this place before they decided to leave; the least we can do is bring our own Christmas spirit, so" Derek reached out to switch on the radio he had found, "this is Christmas."

Derek then busied himself with the card and bits he'd found in what was obviously one of the children's rooms.

Spencer watched as he listened to the instrumental music coming from the radio. Though popular music had never been an interest of his he knew the off- beat track 'Wizard In Winter' from the Trans Siberian Orchestra. He found it much more soothing then the average annual pop offerings. Soon some of the tension had started to lift, relaxing slightly Spence reached forward for some paper and a pencil.


	7. Christmas Morning

**Let it Snow, Let it Snow, Let it Snow!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the ideas.**

**This is my Christmas Gift for MelloJason, as part of the gift exchange on Chit Chat on Author's Corner. Thank you to everyone who has alerted, favourited or reviewed. Sorry if I haven't been able to reply to your reviews but I have had trouble replying through ff the last day or so. So please except a huge thank you now instead.**

. . .

Spencer had spent ages coping Derek's lead and created a handmade card. He had always enjoyed doodling and drawing, and the combination of the festive music and chilling while he drew, had almost forgotten the situation they were in - if it was possible for him to forget anything! Though he had to admit Derek had help calm him and banish his torent of case related thoughts alondside the additional burden of how his Mom had been recently and the ongoing niggle that his future may mirror hers.

However, now his attention was drawn to a sweet aroma filtering through from the kitchen. Intrigued by what Derek was doing in the early hours of Christmas morning Spencer made his way towards the kitchen to join Derek.

Reaching the doorway, Spencer suddenly found himself blocked by the huge form of Derek Morgan.

"Out," he ordered.

"I need a drink," Spencer said, all innocently while trying to look around Derek at what he had been doing.

"Your wish is my command, what would you like?" Derek smiled sweetly at his friend's attempt at gaining entry.

"Water would be good," Spencer replied, straining to see over the large shoulder currently blocking his view.

"Well you go and sit down, I'll bring it through," Derek said not moving from the spot he was in.

Spencer huffed turning away and returning to the couch. Slouching into the corner, arms folded and a sullen expression on his face.

Derek sauntered through, placing a glass of water on the coffee table, laughing at the teenage like strop manifesting bfore him.

"I'm going to clear up then hit the sack," Derek stated, once he had regained self control.

Spencer nodded, sipping the water, glaring at Derek over the rim of the glass.

"Hope you got on with your end of the bargain," Derek threw over his shoulder as he walked away.

"Of course," Spencer answered, slight panic tinged his voice as he realised Derek had been more serious about presents then he initially realised. It was then he guessed just what Derek had been upto in the kitchen.

. . .

Stretching his aching muscles Derek had to admit it had not been the best night's sleep he had ever had, though he had a hell of a lot worse. Padding along to the kitchen, Derek rubbed his hands over his face as he began making coffee.

Peering into the lounge, he wasn't surprised to see Spencer curled up on the couch. He should have guessed the genius would keep going until he fell asleep exactly where he was. Leaning against the solid wood frame Derek watched the peaceful sleep of his young colleague. He had lost count over the years how many times he had seen Spencer fast asleep in what should be some of the most uncomfortable positions. It amazed Derek how the kid could curl up anywhere and just sleep - the plane, police station chairs, lounge floors, you name it. But equally Derek remembered the times he has seen the restless and disturb side of Spencer's sleep, and he guessed that was more often the case then Spencer liked to admit. 'Troubled Genius' was a phrase coined for his friend.

Taking a pot of fresh coffee though, he placed it on the table, noting that the smell had been enough to makes Spencer's nose twitch. It soon roused Spencer from his slumber.

"Happy Christmas, Pretty Boy," Derek said then playfully pushing aside Spencer's feet so he could sit down.

"Urgh," Spencer managed as he rubbed his bleary eyes, as the truth of the situation dawned on him.

_No it wasn't another bizarre dream - Yes it was Christmas morning and yes he was stranded in a cabin with Derek Morgan!_

Instinct made Spencer reached for the coffee, acknowledging the need for the caffeine. As he went to grab a mug, he noticed the 'card' leaning against it. Without looking he knew Derek was smirking as he took in the colourful creation. It was more kindergarten then FBI, but it was enough to make Spencer smile.

"That's, urm, very festive," Spencer managed as he lifted the tree shaped card, excess glitter sprinkling across every surface as it moved, "Yours is just here." Spencer passed his black and white creation, a pencil sketch of the team on the front.

Derek's grin widened, he appreciated the effort that had gone into the gesture. Nothing half hearted from Spencer, perfection or nothing.

"Thanks," was all he could manage, before he distracted himself pouring the coffee.

It didn't take them long to work their way through the pot, and as Derek made the effort to go make another he returned with a plate of cookies, which he handed to Spencer.

"My mom's special recipe. Enjoy."

Spencer looked sheepish, he had half guessed what Derek was up to last night, but somehow facing the home-bakes Spencer felt he had should have done more.

"Here," Spencer said sheepishly shoving a notepad towards Derek.

Derek looked down at the improvised gift and back at Spencer, who seemed to be embarrassed by the gesture. Glancing back at the cover he read the label – Words of Wisdom. Flicking open the book, he read the handwritten prelude.

_This little book is full of phrases and thoughts to help when nothing else can._

Derek flicked through a few more pages pausing periodically to read the perfectly referenced quotes, all that had been sorted into sub categories. Closing the book slowly he steadied his gaze on Spencer.

"Thank you, you obviously put a lot of time into this last night."

Spencer shrugged, looking elsewhere to save having to find a response.

. . .

Rossi stretched awkwardly as he rose from the sorry excuse for a couch he had used as a bed. Looking around the room they had been using as a base, he realised he was alone. Glancing at his watch, his eyes squinted to make out the specific time. Groaning he stood, this was not his idea of the perfect Christmas morning.

Flicking open his phone he realised he finally had a signal, he decided to put off calling Hotch, to find out where he had gone to, instead he thought he'd try Morgan.

Listening to the hollow ringing sound, he was encouraged to have a form of contact.

. . .

Derek was startled when his phone rung, he couldn't believe he hadn't even bother to try it that morning. Answering it he had a brief conversation with Rossi before turning to face Spencer.

"Rossi is going to see what can be sorted for getting us down today. Sounds like Hotch has been having kittens all night and Rossi said the only good thing about the networks going down was that no one had to listen to Pen's panicked rants."

"Is everyone else okay?" Spencer asked.

"Yeah, sounds like it. Rossi and Hotch spent the night at the station, JJ and Em managed to get to the hotel. I'm going to go and take a look outside, see if there is any chance of us getting down to the SUV."

Wrapping up in all the layers he owned, Derek made his way to the door. Stepping outside into the freezing air, Derek took a moment to take in the beauty of the setting they were in. The blanket of snow covered the surrounding fir trees, the breath-taking scene was Christmas card worthy. As he scanned the panoramic view he noticed something lying on the ground further down the path back to the Larson's cabin. He couldn't make out what it was, but decided to go and investigate.


	8. A family Christmas

**Let it Snow, Let it Snow, Let it Snow!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the ideas.**

**This is my Christmas Gift for MelloJason, as part of the gift exchange on Chit Chat on Author's Corner. **

**This is te end - sorry if I speed up the case a bit here - but it was never to be a full case fic story. A huge thank you to my Beta Flashpenguin who really helped me with the end of this (I struggle with ending stories at the best of times), she totally made this ending work.  
><strong>

. . .

Filled with dread, Morgan began to make his way towards the suspicious shape on the ground. It was far enough along the path to the Larson's cabin to be unrecognisable, but close enough to them to be noticeable. As he neared the snow dusted lump, Morgan realised his worse fears were coming to fruition.

Dropping to his knees beside the frozen form, Morgan made the futile checks for signs of life. Silently mouthing 'no', Morgan grabbed for his phone. He knew he was too late to do anything, but needed the reassurance that he had done something, anything.

Carefully turning the body as he listened to his phone ring, Morgan searched for ID. Giving the details of the scene to Rossi, who was the first to reply, Derek's heart become heavy with the fact of having to accept that while he and Spencer had been safe and warm, someone had perished only a matter of yards away. _What had they been doing out in last nights storm?_

Pulling a wallet from an inner pocket Morgan briefly searched through finding a University ID. The body had a name. The kid was in his first year, and had obviously come home for Christmas. Closing his eyes, Derek shuddered as the thought of having to tell a family that their son had been found deadon Christmas day, shook his soul.

Opening his eyes once more, his attention was caught by something shining on the snow a foot away. Reaching over he picked up the golden medal from the soft snow. Identical to the ones he and Reid had found the day before. Realisation dawned as his twisted the medallion through his fingertips.

Retrieving his phone once more he called Garcia.

"Christmas Grotto open and ready to grant wishes, what can I do for you my very own Secret Santa?"

Instantly Derek knew that none of the team had told her of his and Reid's current set of circumstance – something he was glad of. Facing her own brand of panic and sympathy was something beyond Derek right now.

"Angel, I need you to check out a name for me, Daniel Gilbert. Can you send out whatever you find to the whole team?"

As he finished speaking he heard her start to type; it wouldn't be long before they may have a few more pieces for their jigsaw.

. . .

Making their way back to the police station, Morgan and Spencer were amazed by the difference between the weather conditions in the secluded area they had been stranded in and the main town. Micro-climate didn't begin to describe it. The piles of white snow they had waded through to return to the SUV were rapidly replaced by grey mounds of icy slush as they hit the main drag of the town.

The discovery of the body of Daniel Gilbert had ensured that a way up to them had been guaranteed. The local police and Forest Rangers had worked together to retrieve the body. From then on their rescue had been a matter of procedure. Something both Reid and Morgan were silently glad of.

Hotch and Rossi were waiting for them to arrive, and JJ and Emily had joined them. Once reunited the team sat down, wading through the information Garcia had located for them and everything else that had been gathered the day before. Ideas were thrown in and discarded as they tried to make sense of the details they had. As each read, searched and cross referenced, Reid placed a bag on the table.

"Cookie anyone?" he asked

Emily's brow furrowed. "Where did you get cookies on Christmas day?"

Derek and Spencer both smiled, but said nothing.

"Magic," Spencer muttered as the bag was passed round.

. . .

By the end of the day they had pulled together enough to make a solid case against Daniel Gilbert. He had been a local lad, gone through the town schools, and recently started University. He was bright, but a loner, more interested in his books and writing then anything else. From the records that Emily and JJ had gained access to and the information Garcia had retrieved, it was obvious that Daniel had had a hard time fitting in at school and suffered badly at the hands of a group of bullies. Unfortunatly for Danile being intelligent has never been cool.

The bulk of this group of bullies being the town's athletics team - the very team his dad had pushed him to be part of - compacting the opportunities for torment. JJ and Hotch had drawn the short straw of going out to talk to the family, delving into places they really didn't want to in order to gain the information they needed.

Reid stood silently collating and filing the information that showed that the body Morgan had found that morning had been the serial arsonist that they had been hunting. Yet there was none of the satisfaction that he normally felt in solving a case. He hated the fact that the 'monster' they had searched for was a fellow tormented soul - the only difference being Daniel Gilbert had taken a pact with the devil and suffered for the consequences of his actions. Both of them had faced the same junction at some point in their life, they had just taken very differetn paths.

Morgan entered the room, and studied the quiet profiler.

"You alright?" he asked softly.

Reid nodded. "This is one Christmas I'd rather not remember."

Morgan could empathise with that.

"Come on, this is all ready for the locals to tidy up; we're heading back to the hotel to have a Christmas meal and plenty of drinks. 'No' is not an option - before you try it. This has been a rough few days for everyone, and I know how you are feeling, trust me. A family meal is just what the doctor ordered."

Reid looked into the dark orbs of Derek Morgan, he knew that no matter what he had a friend for life. Someone who could all too frequently read him as easily as he read a quantum physic text.

Closing the lid of the cardboard carton, Reid walked away with Morgan, physically turning his back on the case, even if he was not able to do so mentally.

. . .

The best of all gifts around any Christmas tree: the presence of a happy family all wrapped up in each other.

**Burton Hillis, author**

. . .

Taking the steps two at a time Morgan buzzed through the bull pen. There was not a chance of him staying second longer than necessary, beside Garcia had used her skills to secure him a place on the next flight to Chicago. It maybe thirty-six hours late but Morgan was heading home.

Pausing by Reid's desk Morgan slapped the young genius on the back. "You off soon?"

"Yeah," Reid nodded.

"Good, because I'm sure I'm not the only one with a mom looking forward to seeing her son."

Reid had to smile, Morgan was right, not matter how Diana Reid was feeling, she enjoyed her time with him.

Watching Morgan leave, Reid called out: "Happy Christmas, by the way."

Morgan turned around. He flashed a bright, wide smile toward the younger agent. "Happy Christmas Kid, see you in the New Year."

Reid watched his friend turn the corner and disappear. He had managed to have a Happy Christmas - albeit with his co-workers while trapped in the snow looking for an UNSUB - but it _had_ happened! And it felt good!

Gathering up his folders, he reached for the lamp on his desk. His hand paused as his gaze fell on the picture of his mom that he kept hidden in the corner of his desk. Picking it up, he brushed of the bit of dust that had accumulated on the frame. It was a good picture of him and his mom taken during one of her lucid moments when demons weren't terrorizing and haunting her waking thoughts, and he had had a second or two of being able to be a real kid not burdened by responsibility.

Giving the picture another glance, he set it down. But this time, it went in the centre of his desk. Turning out the light, he gathered up his jacket. He was heading to Las Vegas to spend the holidays with her. No matter what, she deserved a Happy Christmas as much as he did.

Opening the drawer of his desk, he pulled out the homemade card he had created during the time he was making one for Derek. He slipped it in the pocket of his jacket, then made his way out of the bullpen.

Hitting the button on the lift, he waited. The ping of the lift sounded as the doors opened. Stepping on, he hit the button for the parking garage. He subconsciously patted the pocket. A small smile danced on his lips. He wondered if she would like it. Of course, it wasn't much, but it was from the heart.

And that's what Christmas was all about. Wasn't it?


End file.
